Fevers and Jello
by ThatOneKrys
Summary: When their daughter gets sick, Killian swoops in with jello.


_This fic was my gift for my CSSV over on tumblr. Full of fluff and daddy Killian feels. Enjoy!_

* * *

Emma wanted to do nothing more than just hide under the warm blankets of her bed with her pirate and ignore the rest of the world. Even just an _hour_ would be nice. _Fuck, ten minutes would be like heaven!_ But no, she couldn't. Her parents and little brother were going to be over any minute, the house was a mess, Killian and Henry were taking forever at the store, and their little princess was in bed with a fever, sweating up a storm.

_Why_ did they have to have family night at their place this week? And why the hell was Mary Margaret so determined to keep it on when she knew Hanna was sick? Emma wasn't sure she could deal with a sick 4-year-old daughter and a rambunctious 6-year-old brother right now. _At least Henry was a godsend, amazing with both Hanna and Neal._

"Daddy?" a quiet, very tired voice broke Emma's internal ranting.

Spinning around, she spotted a mess of dark hair hiding under a poofy Snow White comforter wrapped around her daughter's tiny body. "Daddy's not here, baby. He and Henry went to the store to get you some more medicine," she explained, crossing the kitchen to gather the girl up in her arms and press a kiss to her too-warm temple. "You should be in bed, sweetie."

"When's daddy gon' be back?" Hanna asked, relaxing against her mother's chest, head resting on her shoulder.

"Soon," she promised, silently hoping her boys would walk through the front door any second now. Though she had to smile at how much her daughter wanted Killian. On a normal day he was wrapped completely around her little finger, but whenever she wasn't feeling well the two were nearly inseparable. More often than not Killian fell asleep in Hanna's room whenever she was sick, wanting to keep an eye on his precious treasure. "Let's get you back to bed."

"Don't wanna sleep. Want daddy," she whined, absolutely no force behind her words that was usually there whenever she took on such a tone, especially when she demanded Killian's presence.

Emma smiled and kissed her dark curls. Mouth open to suggest something else, she was interrupted by voices outside the front door seconds before it flew open to reveal Killian and Henry. "Took you two long enough," she huffed, stalking towards the two men, Hanna's head lifting to peek up at them as well.

"Daddy," the girl called out, leaning away from Emma as much as she possibly could with the blanket wrapped around her, arms reaching for her father.

"Forgive us, love. Finding the correct medicine took longer than expected." Depositing the grocery bag in his hand on the counter, he scooped Hanna up out of Emma's arms with ease, planting a kiss to her cheek. "How's my little cygnet feeling? And why aren't you in bed? You should be resting."

"Missed you," Hanna mumbled into his shoulder, her arms clasping around his neck as she clung to him as much as she could in her feverish state.

Killian chuckled, a bright smile appearing. "I missed you too, sweetheart. So very much." He kissed and nuzzled her hair, humming quietly. "How about we go lay on the couch until grandma and grandpa get here?"

Dark curls bounced as she nodded against his shoulder, and he swiftly crossed the front room to the couch, carefully depositing Hanna on its cushions, securing her blanket around her shoulders. "Don't leave, daddy," she whined, an arm peeking out from under her cocoon, reaching for Killian before he could stand up.

"I'll be _right_ back, little love," he promised, catching her hand with his and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. His scruff made her giggle tiredly. "I am going to get your medicine and I promise we can cuddle all you want after that. Aye?"

"Aye," Hanna agreed, his smile widening even further, and burrowed back into her comforter.

"Why is there _jello_ in here?" Emma whispered once he was back in the kitchen, going through the bag's contents in search of their daughter's medicine. "I told you to stop letting Henry talk you into buying stuff, Killian."

Eyes darting to the food in question, Killian scratched his neck, his smile morphing into something more sheepish. "It wasn't the lad's idea, love. I purchased it myself."

"Why-?" Lightbulb going off in her mind, Emma sighed. "I've told you I don't know how many times, Killian. Jello doesn't have _medicinal properties_, despite what you might think."

"I know it doesn't, Swan," he mused, a gentle chuckle filling the otherwise quiet kitchen. When the flu had gone around a few years ago, hitting everyone _except_ Killian—lucky bastard and his apparently inhuman immune system—he constantly tried to help cure everyone's ailments with cups of jello. No one had the heart to tell him the truth until after it had passed, not wanting to make him feel completely useless while everyone slowly recovered. "But she hasn't eaten much since this ailment hit her, and she will _always_ eat jello. It's bad enough she's ill, love, I don't want her to starve as well."

A soft smile turned Emma's lips up. Killian was absolutely wrapped around their daughter's finger and she absolutely loved watching him move the earth and moon for his little princess. Her hand found its way to his face, cupping his cheek and rubbing her thumb across the scar there. "Hanna couldn't be any luckier to have you for her dad."

His cheeks darkened, one corner of his lips turning up to provide Emma with a lopsided smile. "She's my little cygnet, I can't help it, just like I cannot help how much I love her mother."

"I love you too, pirate," she whispered, closing the distance to give him a short-lived kiss. Pulling back, she dropped the box of cold medicine into his hand, a happy smile wide on her face. "Go take care of our baby before she starts calling for you again."

With a kiss to her cheek, Killian gathered up the jello and a spoon from the drawer before exiting the kitchen and dropping onto the couch, carefully pulling a sleeping cocooned Hanna into his lap.

* * *

"She needs to eat something more than just jello, Emma," Mary Margaret declared, an exasperated sigh following, bouncing around the kitchen in apparent search of food for her sick granddaughter.

Her parents and brother had shown up not even a half hour earlier, and the only thing her worrisome mother concerned herself with was Hanna's sickened state. Freaking out about her granddaughter's illness despite being _fully aware_ of how the girl was faring.

"It's the only thing she's been able to keep down," Emma explained, following behind her mother and closing the fridge just as she opened it. "She was eating fine until last night, mom. One day of just jello isn't going to kill her. Besides, it makes her _and_ Killian feel better."

Both women glanced across the room to where the two sat on the couch, each enjoying their own cup of strawberry jello while watching a movie with the other three boys.

"She better not get Neal sick," Mary Margaret mumbled, watching as her son leaned in closer to Hanna's side and her head settled on his shoulder.

Emma grinned, more than willing to take the blame if he did. "You know how those two are, mom. Inseparable when they're together." And it was true. Being only two years apart, and both _much_ younger than Henry or herself, they bonded almost instantly when Hanna was born. They were the best of friends, and the only things that ever got between them were their fathers.

"David, Killian." Both men looked back at them when Mary Margaret called their names. "Mind helping with dinner, please?"

"Coming," David answered, pushing out of the chair almost instantly.

"Give me a moment, milady," Killian requested, finding Hanna suddenly in his lap once more. "I have to get up, sweetheart."

Pressing her weight further into his chest, she shook her head. "Stay, daddy."

"I'll be back, cygnet. But right now I have to help your grandmother with dinner," he explained, hand dipping under her chin and lifting her head to meet an identical pair of blue eyes. "You can cuddle up with Neal and Henry while I'm gone, aye?"

"I'm not goin' anywhere," Neal confirmed from his side of the couch, reaching out to gently pull Hanna closer to him. She willingly followed, turning to curl up into his side, her head returning to its usual spot on his shoulder.

"And Henry?" she murmured, eyes darting over to her big brother when Killian stood and dropped a kiss atop her head. Killian ruffled Neal's dark blonde hair as he walked around the couch and towards the kitchen.

The teen in question lifted his head from the book he'd been reading and sent her a bright smile. "Gimmie two pages and I'll be over there," Henry promised. Just like her father, Henry was a sucker when it came to his baby sister.

"How much help could you possibly need in making tacos?" Killian questioned as soon as he was in the kitchen, sliding up to Emma's side and pulling her close, leaving a kiss against her temple.

"None, but I knew if I called just you in here, Hanna would make a fuss," Mary Margaret explained, eyes narrowing at the pirate.

Emma groaned, wishing her mother would just drop the whole Hanna-needs-to-eat-more issue. "Mom, _don't_. Please. It's not going to help."

"What-?"

Killian was cut off by the petit woman. "Hanna needs to eat something more than just jello," she explained, making Emma want to just sink into the ground. "It's not good for her to not eat anything."

"Snow…" David quietly chimed in.

Bright blue eyes stared at Mary Margaret for a moment, stunned by her words. "I know how to take care of my own daughter, your majesty. _Especially_ how to take care of her when she's ill," Killian insisted, jaw clenching in obvious annoyance. Emma's hand found his and laced their fingers together, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I do not tell you how to care for your son, and I would appreciate it if you did me the same courtesy. I know precisely what to do."

It was obvious Killian was mad, but the twitch in his arm and the way he swallowed was enough for her to notice he was upset as well. He hated it when someone called him out on his parenting choices, always reverting back to his fears of being a horrible father when she was pregnant with Hanna. Yes, he made mistakes—they both did—but he knew when he did and, as always, owned up to them and learned from them. And taking care of Hanna in almost any situation was something he'd already nearly perfected.

Mary Margaret was about to open her mouth again, stopped by David's hand on her arm. "Don't we have some tacos to make? I'm sure the kids are hungry. I know I am," he intervened, catching Emma's eye and the grateful look she gave him, mouthing a silent 'thank you'. He smiled back before turning his wife around towards the taco fixings.

"Hey," she said, pulling on Killian's hand to get his attention. "Go check on Hanna. See if she might be up to eating dinner with the rest of us," she insisted. "David and I will talk to her," Emma added on when he hesitated, eyes darting over to her mother's head. "_Go_."

With a nod, he quickly made his way back to the couch, squatting down to check on their daughter. She watched with a smile at how easy it was for him to forget his worries when he interacted with Hanna. After a moment, she turned to gather up plates and glasses to set out on the table. As she set the table, she could hear her parents' hushed voices, bickering back and forth. Glancing over her shoulder, she could see David trying to calm her mother down, who seemed insistent on standing her ground. Sighing, she walked over to the couple, grabbed Mary Margaret's arm, and pulled her down the hallway, out of sight and earshot of everyone else.

"_Emma!_"

"No. Don't 'Emma' me," she told Mary Margaret, a finger pointing at her mother. "You have no right to tell me and Killian how to take care of Hanna. You have your ways of raising Neal, and we have ours for her. We appreciate your concern for our daughter's wellbeing, and the advice you have to share, but what we do is _our_ choice. And Killian knows better than anyone how to take care of Hanna when she's sick."

Her mother's face fell, and Emma felt bad for being so stern, but it was necessary. Normally Mary Margaret was content to let the two of them parent Hanna and Henry however they pleased, but getting on Killian's back about this frustrated Emma.

"And I don't appreciate it when you belittle his skills as her father," she added on, shoulders slumping as a sigh escaped. "You might not notice it, but he gets upset when you do."

"What? Killian has no reason to be upset," Mary Margaret insisted, eyes wide in surprise.

"_Yes_, he does. When I was pregnant, he was terrified he'd be a horrible father, that he wouldn't be good enough for Hanna," she explained, voice lowering in case someone decided to wander in their direction. It wasn't really her place to admit this little secret for him, even if David already knew about it, but her mother needed to hear it too. "And he's been freaking amazing and perfect and he knows her better than I could ever dream of knowing her. So whenever someone questions his ability to take care of his little princess, it bothers him and makes him wonder if he really isn't as good with her as he thought."

"Oh. I see. I'm sorry, Emma-"

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to," Emma cut her off, giving her a pointed look before going back into the front room, just in time to find Killian carrying a bundle of blankets and black curls towards the stairs. "Is she okay?"

"Aye, love. She's tired and doesn't feel like eating," he explained with a soft smile. "She's going to rest while we eat and join us after a nap."

"Mommy?" Hanna shifted in his arms until their eyes met.

"What is it, baby?" she asked, closing the distance between them to kiss her still warm forehead.

"Is grandma mad?" Both Emma's and Killian's brows furrowed in confusion. "Cause I'm eating jello?"

Emma sighed and she felt Killian tense up next to her. Apparently their discussion in the kitchen hadn't been quiet enough. "No, she isn't, Hanna. I promise. Now go get some sleep."

"I'll be back down in a moment," Killian promised, sharing a look with her before disappearing up the stairs. She nearly jumped when Mary Margaret appeared right behind her. "She heard me?"

"Yeah, she did. Guess we weren't all that quiet."

"Tacos are ready!" David's voice filled the room, followed almost instantly by the stampeding of Henry and Neal's feet as they raced to the table.

* * *

"Killian? Can I talk to you for a moment?" Mary Margaret quietly requested, sliding past Emma's spot at the sink to intercept the pirate before he could disappear upstairs to check on Hanna.

"Of course," he agreed with a bow of his head, following her out of the kitchen and back to the hallway she and Emma had their brief conversation. "What can I do for you, milady?"

"I wanted to apologize," the brunette quickly explained. "For what I said about Hanna. It wasn't my place to tell you how to take care of her. I realise I have my way of doing things with Neal, and I tend to…_push_ my ideas onto others, expecting them to do the same. Sometimes I can't help it. I'm royalty, it's kind of our thing." A small smile appeared on both their faces, a huffed laugh coming from Killian. "You're an amazing dad to Hanna and, even if I don't agree with everything you and Emma do, I have to accept you know what you're doing. And I'm sorry for not doing that earlier."

"Apology accepted. Now, if you don't mind…." He trailed off, scratching his neck and motioning in the general direction of the upstairs floor. "I need to check on my lass."

"Oh- yes- go ahead. And…can you tell her I'm not mad? Please?"

A corner of his lips turned up and he nodded. "Aye, I'll let her know."

Thirty minutes later, Killian came back downstairs with Hanna in his arms, this time bundled up in her favorite sweatshirt of his—the red hood nearly enveloping her entire head and face, sleeves falling over her hands even as she tried to push them up her tiny arms, and the hem grazing her knees. Emma gave him a look over Henry's head from their spot on the couch, wondering what had taken him so long upstairs.

"She got sick not long after she woke up, so we spent some time in the bathroom until we were certain it passed," he explained, settling into the open spot on Emma's other side. "Though I'm certain her fever broke, at least." He glanced around the room, noticing the absence of the rest of her family. "When did everyone leave?"

"About five minutes ago," Henry piped in, reaching across Emma to scratch his sister's back. "Hey kid, you feeling okay?"

She turned her head to look at Henry, a tired smile appearing as she pushed the hood away from her face to see her brother. "M'fine," she murmured, nuzzling further into her father's shoulder. "Hungry."

"Let me go get you some jello, baby," Emma offered, getting ready to stand up when Hanna shook her head. "Don't want jello."

Green eyes widened in surprise and she looked up at Killian, her expression mirrored right back at her. Since when did Hanna _not_ want jello? "Can I have a taco?"

"Sweetie, you can still have jello. Just because grandma-" She was cut off by the insistent shaking of Hanna's head. "I missed taco night and I'm really hungry."

Everyone chuckled, Henry's hand on Emma's shoulder preventing her from getting up. "I'll get it, mom."

She beamed up at her son. "Thanks, kid," she hummed and reached over for her little girl. "Come here, baby. You can't eat any tacos if you're lying on dad like that, now can you?" Hanna peeled herself away from Killian and sluggishly climbed onto her lap, hugging her around her neck before twisting and sitting back against her chest, legs dangling over her own. Pulling the hood down, Emma helped a struggling Hanna pull the sleeves up over her elbows, grinning and shaking her head. Killian's sweatshirt was definitely way too big for their daughter, but she insisted on wearing it from time to time, and there was no stopping her.

"Here you go, kid. One chicken taco for my favorite sister," Henry announced, carefully setting a plate in her lap.

"I'm your only sister, silly."

"Still my favorite," he insisted, that bright grin of his appearing as he returned to his spot next to Emma.

"Thank you, Henry," she said before digging into the taco.

(The next day Hanna was almost completely recovered from her illness. Not that it stopped her from getting more jello out of the deal.

"There's no point in letting it waste in the fridge, love."

"I promise I'll still eat dinner, mommy."

There really was no point in trying to argue—not that she'd tried all that hard to begin with—when her pirate and their princess teamed up against her.)


End file.
